


Orion and Sirius

by dreamonlosers



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, Dogs, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Some Humor, i dunno how i feel about this yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7265929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamonlosers/pseuds/dreamonlosers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe it's like Sirius, the star," she suggested. "Y'know, next to Orion, the hunter, who had a dog named Sirius."</p><p>***</p><p>The mutt wouldn’t leave him alone. What else was he supposed to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orion and Sirius

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Death and brief unsanitary situations. Otherwise.
> 
> I had this idea a long time ago. Instead of having a linear plot and having to structure all of it, it would read better if i wrote it in this format. It was very fun to write! Daryl with a dog seemed like a cute plot. There are both humorous drabbles and slightly angsty ones. Enjoy!
> 
> Comments/kudos are much appreciated. Written on a smart phone, my apologies for awkward formatting.

Alexandria was still in sight but Daryl felt too far away from it, as if it would disappear if he was gone for too long. A cold front brought on by the rain settled throughout the woods as he strayed from a beaten path, his crossbow propped on his forearm and fresh game strung across his chest. He grimaced when crisp leaves crunched too loudly beneath his feet.

A damned mutt was trailing behind him. Daryl didn't know why he hadn't shot it yet, maybe it was because he knew the folks at Alexandria wouldn't have the stomach to eat a dog. Over his dead body, he might say that he felt sympathy for the starved beast. But once he tossed some scraps at the mutt, it wouldn't leave him alone.

"Go on, get outta here!" He had said. For a second, the dog flinched and tucked his tail and lowered his ears. But the asshole didn't budge, and after a few seconds of silent standoff, the pup rolled over and wagged its tail.

Daryl huffed and gave a few pats to its -- _his_ \-- belly. When he stood up, the dog scrambled to its feet and continued to limp behind him. 

Damned dog wasn't gonna leave him alone, that was for sure. 

***

There was a collar on the dog, worn out and hanging by a thread. The tag had rusted and was barely readable, but Daryl could make out the name through the bronze flakes.

"Sirius," he read aloud. In response, the dog perked his ears up and tilted his head.

***

Daryl had tied a frayed rope around Sirius' collar when he entered Alexandria. It was the best way to make sure that he didn't run off and terrorize the residents, but Sirius seemed to have no intention of doing so. Instead, he obediently stayed at Daryl's side, struggling a bit to keep up with the hunter's broad steps.

Some kids -- maybe six or seven years old -- were building castles in a little sandbox that was far too small for them. It was damp, sticking to their clothes as they pointed at the dog at Daryl's side and began to walk over. Instead of pretending he didn't see them, he stood frozen with uncertainty towards the children approaching him.

A small girl stood in front of the others, her hand slightly extended but not too close to Sirius' jaw. Wide, inquisitive eyes stared at Daryl and the girl cautiously stepped closer. When he looked at Sirius, the dog slightly wagged his tail and strained his neck to sniff at the girl. It seemed alright.

The girl let Sirius nuzzle at her palm before she patted his head. She smiled, a wide, toothy grin that was plastered onto her dirty face as the few other kids tentatively petted Sirius all around. In return, he happily sniffed the children and slobbered all over them and they squealed with delight.

"What happened to your fur, boy?" One boy cooed. He lightly brushed his thumb over a bald spot on his back where caramel colored fur should have been. Daryl gave a light tug to the leash, not wanting the kids to touch the wounds decorating Sirius. 

But Sirius seemed happy with the affection. It shocked Daryl that the dog wasn't hostile, considering it's probably been on its own for a few rough months now. Sirius didn't bare his teeth and growl or tuck his tail between his legs and hide, but instead lapped up the attention greedily. 

It wasn't long before a woman with features similar to that of the first girl stepped onto the porch. She called for the children, who reluctantly pulled away and said goodbye to Daryl. Sirius almost followed them, and Daryl was shot with a suspicious glare from the woman. He stared back at her, hoping he looked more vicious than he felt. 

***

Carol was sitting on the porch swing, novel in her lap and a cigarette hanging from her mouth. However, her eyes seemed glazed over as she looked at the pages and didn't notice Daryl walking up the steps.

"Hey," he said as he sat on the splintered wood. He took out a knife and one of the rabbits he had caught. 

She nodded at him, paying no mind to the blood that would soon stain the ground. Instead, she focused her gaze on Sirius who had laid down besides Daryl. 

"What the hell is that?" She asked, pointing her cigarette at the dog. "A pet?"

Daryl shrugged. "Followed me back here. Couldn't stop'em."

Carol scoffed, a hint of amusement fluttering over her expression. "He should be our dinner."

***

"So, like Sirius Black?" Glenn asked as he read the dog tag. "From Harry Potter?"

Daryl frowned. "From what?"

"Nevermind," Said Glenn, scratching behind Sirius' ears. "He looks like a redbone coonhound. My brother had one of these, they're good hunting dogs."

Maggie had been crouching next to her husband, giving the dog a once-over to make sure he wasn't completely disease-ridden. Herschel had taught her the basics of veterinary medicine when she was young.

"Maybe it's like Sirius, the star," she suggested. "Y'know, next to Orion, the hunter, who had a dog named Sirius."

"Maybe," Glenn agreed.

After some time, Maggie concluded that he would be okay once some of his wounds were dressed. But she told him to keep him outside until he got a proper bath because he was so goddamn filthy. 

"Y'all let me stay in here," Daryl muttered as he walked out. Neither of them had heard him.

***

Rick wanted them to eat as a group as often as possible. That meant fitting all fifteen of them into one dining room, sometimes even one table. They would set out their rations like a buffet of sorts, kind of like how they did before Alexandria. The only difference was that there was a lot more food to pass around.

That evening, Daryl paid no mind to Sirius pacing around the table until everyone was seated. As long as he stayed quiet, Daryl figured it would be no problem. He was pretty sure that Michonne was joking about the house being overrun by fleas.

Judith babbled in her high chair as Carl fed her the last bite of her mushy apples. She hadn't quite gotten a hang of feeding herself, yet, but she had progressed from flinging her meals onto the person opposite of her.

"Da--!" She squealed. Both he and Rick were thinking she was signaling her father, but the chubby hand pointed at Daryl said otherwise. "Da--!"

"You want Daryl to hold you?" Rick asked, giving him a questioning look to see if it was okay. Daryl nodded and Judith was passed over to him. 

He balanced her on his knee, her back facing him. At first, she fascinated herself with the fuzzy facial hair covering his face, patting it with her tiny palms. 

That was fine with him until she suddenly switched her interest and tried wiggling out of his hold. Judith was trying to lean over to find Sirius, who was lying underneath his chair.

She was a clever girl, knowing that if she sat with Daryl she would be able to pet the dog. Sirius sniffed her and gave her a gentle kiss on her hand as she continued to pet him.

Carl, who was sitting next to Daryl, held out a small piece of meat. 

"Watch this, Judy--" Carl looked pointedly at the dog. "Sirius, sit."

Sirius obeyed and Carl tossed the scrap at him. He took it, dropped it on the ground, and then ate it. Judith laughed and slapped her hands together, almost slipping off of Daryl's leg.

"Don't feed the damn dog at the table," Carol chastised, but there was hardly any vehemence in her words. Sirius was still licking his teeth, searching for any extra taste.

Daryl looked up to see Rick smiling at all of them, a sort of smile that he hadn't seen on Rick since he met him. 

***

Sometimes, Sirius would nearly die.

Daryl nearly had a goddamn heart attack the first time he saw a walker try to take a swipe at his dog. An adrenaline-filled arrow pierced its skull and sent it tumbling down the hill to where it fell in the water. 

Sirius tentatively followed the walker, ready to try to retrieve it, but Daryl called him back to his side.

"Bad dog!" He scolded. Sirius tucked his tail, but Daryl didn't relent. The dog had to understand that he couldn't go after walkers.

Most dogs have bad habits, Daryl remembered. Some would eat toilet paper, tear up couch cushions while the owner was away, or furiously roll in the dirt after a bath. Apparently, Sirius would not stop going after walkers until Daryl called him. By then, the walker already heard the two and was on its way.

The image of a walker leaning over his dog, trying to sink its teeth into its flesh and ripping off the collar in the process haunted Daryl more than it should've. It was a damned dog, losing him would be nothing in comparison to losing anyone else. Carol, Rick…Beth and Merle.

No, it would be nothing. He didn't know why it bothered him so much.

Regardless, the issue was still present and if he didn't care about Sirius staying alive, Daryl know that he needed to. If, by chance, a small hoard came through, he would be totally fucked if his dog didn't shut up. 

A few weeks of rigorous instruction finally solved the problem. Sirius would still bare his teeth and pace anxiously, but he no longer went on the offensive. It was better than nothing, Daryl concluded. They would be safe like that.

His heart would still race everytime a walker passed by them, praying to a god he no longer believed in that the fucking mutt would be okay.

***

Before Tobin, there would be a few nights that he would sleep in Carol's room. It didn't mean anything, he assured himself. The two had just gotten so close to each other that they were comfortable with the arrangement.

With Daryl on the left side of the bed, Carol would sleep close to him. Not touching him, of course, but he could distinctly make out the rise and fall of her chest as she slept.

It was obvious that Carol wasn't totally psyched about Sirius. Daryl, however, let the dog rest at the foot of the bed despite Carol's half-hearted protests.

When they would wake up, Sirius would sometimes be on the bed, curled into the sheets with his gaze fixated on the doorway.

In the future, Carol wouldn't admit it, but she missed having Sirius around to do that.

***

Everyone had grown fond of Sirius. He was always Daryl's dog, but the group enjoyed playing with him and taking care of him.

Tara and Glenn had gone on a short run, thinking they could snag some shit from a convenience store that someone had thought wasn't empty yet. For the most part, they returned empty-handed. Only a few cans, one water jug, and…a stuffy?

"I got a squirrel for Sirius," Tara smiled, sitting on her knees as she held out the toy. He sniffed it and gently took it from her hands. With the toy in his mouth, his lips flattened out and he looked at Daryl with such proud puppy eyes.

He trotted around the room a few times and threw the stuffy in the air. When it landed on the floor, he went into downward-dog and huffed before picking it up again.

Tara laughed and rubbed his head. "You're such a good boy. You're so strong and mighty!"

Sirius wagged his tail, seemingly saying: _I am a good boy, so strong and mighty!_

Until the toy was ripped and gutted of the cotton, Sirius liked to hold it whenever he was around the house. Even when he slept, he would sometimes keep it between his paws as if he was cuddling with it.

He whined when he saw Daryl toss it out. Maybe, Daryl thought, they could get him a new one.

***

Sirius was truly loyal to the hunter. He never strayed from Daryl's side without his permission and seemed to immediately understand who Daryl did and did not trust. It was creepy, the way Sirius became synchronized with Daryl in most aspects.

But it was also useful. When Daryl went hunting, Sirius had his best interest in mind. Hell, with the skills of this mutt, Daryl would bet that he could feed the entirety of Alexandria alone.

So he did.

After the walls fell, there weren't many to feed. Other food provisions were low and they really had to stretch their rations for many months, but they were fed.

Daryl didn't let them down.

***

"Daryl!"

The hunter sprung out of bed, grabbing his crossbow and not bothering to out on a shirt as he dashed downstairs. It had to have been Rick's voice that he had heard. Maybe it was about Judith or Carl or…

Sirius.

Yeah, it was Sirius.

He was sitting submissively by the back door, his tail tucked between his legs and his ears flattened. Large guilty eyes stared at Daryl and then at Rick.

It seemed that not only did he piss on the carpet, he also vomited on the couch cushion. Undigested food, the stupid thing.

"He ate too fast, I guess," Rick sighed. He opened the sliding glass doors to let Sirius sulk in the backyard. "Never thought I'd have to see dog vomit again, really."

That day, Daryl learned how to properly clean up messes with the stern instructions from Carol Peletier. 

***

Carl's (totally not) girlfriend, Enid, had found a stray cat. A yellow-eyed, vicious little tomcat with bits of her ear missing. Enid decided to call her Morticia, after an old movie character. Daryl found that a bit odd, but he, of course, didn't comment.

Sirius took a certain interest to her. With the few other animals in Alexandria, Sirius didn't pay much mind to them. It was probably because of Morticia's association with Carl that he tried interacting with the cat.

But Morticia was a grouchy bitch, in all honesty. She hissed and swatted at Sirius, who seemed briefly saddened by the rejection. Then, he growled back at her and threatened her with a snap of his teeth.

"Sirius, no!" Carl scolded with a bop on the nose. Meanwhile, Enid scooped up Morticia and called her a nasty bitch in a loving tone.

When Carl recounted the story to Daryl, he didn't seem bitchy about it. Rather, he seemed more grateful. Daryl would've guessed that he didn't like Morticia, either, but didn't want to piss off Enid. Oh, the woes of young love.

A few weeks went by and Morticia passed away in a bush. Probably from an unseen illness, they concluded. She had been acting sick previously. 

Sirius sniffed the spot where she was buried and whined.

***

On some plots of land that Deanna had coordinated before her death, crops were going to be planted. With quite a few mouths to feed, they needed many plants in a small amount of time. When Daryl wasn't hunting with Sirius, Maggie borrowed him both as an aide and as an uplifting spirit around the more melancholic workers. 

Sirius loved digging holes, however. While Maggie had originally intended for him to quickly fetch tools and such, she often found him nose-deep in the dirt.

Albeit, it was a bit like an unrealistic story written by a fourteen year old writer who loves zombie shows way too much where the dog was smart enough to easily learn a new trick. But he was a very bright boy and he quickly picked up on Maggie's instructions.

Soon, she had him move down the stretches of dirt. When she clapped, Sirius began digging tiny holes with the fronts of his paws.

Only a few seconds would go by and she would say, "Stop," and toss the seeds into the pit and push the dirt back over.

"Next," she would say, and Sirius would know to sidle a few inches away and wait for her command.

Daryl had no goddamn clue as to how she trained that dog so goddamned well. He blamed her Greene heritage, specifically her father.

One night, after an afternoon of work, he overheard Maggie talking to Glenn.

"He really loves Carol's beet-sweetened cookies," she shrugged. "That dog'll do anything for them."

***

Daryl was alone in the house, taking a deuce.

Apparently, Sirius was not okay with that. The fucking dog shoved the door open unexpectedly and ran in, nearly giving Daryl a heart attack in the process. They would've found him dead on the toilet.

***

It was late in the evening and something had Sirius upset and anxious. He paced around the house, long nails tapping excessively on the floorboards.

"Sirius, lay down," Rick had tried to tell him one last time. He patted the dog bed. "C'mon."

At most, Sirius would stand by the mattress and lay his head on it, but he wouldn't get up. Once, Rick got him to lay on the floor, but that was only for two minutes before he circled the house again.

When Daryl got back, he took Sirius once around the house to try to calm him, showing him that nothing was there. Except there was one spot that Sirius started growling at and it was the area around the old bird bath, so Daryl put it in the garage. Still, Sirius was very pissy about it.

Well, he finally retired to his doggy mattress and Daryl slept on the couch that night, only a bit paranoid that his dog actually detected something that he couldn't see. Also, his attic bedroom got muggy and was a bitch to sleep in.

In the middle of the night, he awoke to Sirius howling at the back door and scratching the glass. Daryl stomped over and snapped at him to be quiet, briefly checking outside with his knife in his hand.

Upstairs, he heard Judith whining and the heavy footsteps of the Grimes men. Rick wandered downstairs, rubbing his forehead but seemingly alert. Carl must have been soothing Judith.

"Nothin's out there," Daryl said, holding Sirius by the collar. "I'll put'em out on the front porch."

"Yeah," Rick agreed. "Michonne was ready t'gut him."

 _Carol probably would_ Daryl thought as he fastened the leash to the wooden fence. But she was staying the night at Tobin's, far from the noisy beast.

The Grimes family stood in the kitchen, still settling down an upset Judith. Rick held her on his hip, making sure that she could see his face and bouncing her lightly. Carl searched the room for her pacifier which Daryl found on the chest of drawers. He handed it to the teenager.

Once Lil' Asskicker quieted down, Rick and Carl ascended back upstairs. 

"Y'know," he heard Carl say. "I once read that dogs can sense paranormal energies. I mean, probably not, but yeah."

Daryl could practically feel Rick's shrug of neutral agreement. He peeked outside the window to see Sirius, now asleep but guarding the porch steps.

***

Denise Cloyd and Tara spared some of their time to wash Sirius. Using the hose in the backyard and some doggy shampoo they had snagged, they fought to keep Sirius still as he shivered in the water.

A firm grip close to his collar was the best they could do, but Tara complained. "He's straining so much, I don't want to choke him!"

"He'll be fine," Denise assured, patting Tara's shoulder. "Oh, sorry."

Tara laughed and brushed off the suds on her shirt. The couple kneaded their hands through his fur, whispering little words of comfort until they were finished. 

Tara scratched behind his ears. "Let's go inside, buddy."

"Tara, wait, we didn't dry him off!" Denise exclaimed, but Sirius had already bolted towards the door. He nearly tore the arm from her socket as she was dragged back to the house.

They caught him on the deck and were about to throw a towel over him. However, Sirius had an idea of a more efficient way to dry himself off.

With what seemed to be all his strength, Sirius rapidly shook his body. Tara squealed and held the towel up as a shield but Denise got pelted with smelly dog water, cursing as she quickly backed away.

"Jesus Christ," Denise whined. Tara only laughed at her girlfriend and tossed the towel onto the guilty party. Sirius wagged his tail, panting and unapologetic. 

Rubbing the cloth up and down his fur, Tara gave him a light kiss on the head. "You're free to go, good boy!" She unhooked his leash.

Denise sighed as the dog took off. "Y'know, we really should -- oh, no, no, no, no! Stop!"

She was cut off when she caught sight of Sirius thrashing in a pile of dirt. Tara swore and chased after him.

When she finally caught up to him, his ear flopped backwards and his tongue hung out the side of his mouth. His tail wagged and he slobbered a kiss onto Tara. 

"Ugh," she moaned. This time, Denise laughed.

***

It wasn't fair.

On the list of people that Did Not Deserve That, Denise was pushing number one. And Daryl couldn't do anything about it.

Rosita, too, blamed herself. Daryl knew that, but neither of them said anything after they escorted an injured Eugene back to Alexandria. It wasn't fair to Denise that they ignored her untimely death, but there wasn't any other option for them.

Oh God, Tara didn't even know. She wouldn't be back for another couple of weeks.

That evening, Daryl was perched on the front steps. A cigarette hung out of the corner of his mouth and he watched the thin smoke disappear into nothing. 

Sirius came around the corner, sensing distress. He dropped what he was carrying and laid down next to Daryl, slightly rolling onto his back and exposing his belly. Daryl gave him a few pats and withdrew his hand. 

Pushing his hand up with his nose, Sirius wiggled underneath Daryl's palm and sighed. His nose twitched at the scent of the smoke.

As Daryl replayed the fatal piercing of Denise Cloyd in his mind, the cigarette faded into a stub.

***

On the morning that Sirius didn't wake up, Daryl picked at his fingers until they bled. For a few moments, all he could do was stare as the rising sun cast a long shadow of Sirius' body.

Then, he got to work. Dragging the dog out of the house, he set him in the backyard and grabbed a shovel. By the time the sun had fully risen, Sirius was six feet below the Earth's surface.

The others had just awoken when he returned. In the midst of pouring a bowl of cereal, Carl asked, "Where's Sirius?"

"Buried him this mornin'," Daryl replied. During breakfast, Carl ate less than he normally would.

Even Judith was bothered by his absence. Instead of babbling playfully, she glared at the spot he would normally be. Rick tried to distract her by spooning applesauce into her mouth.

Sirius was already an older dog when they found each other. According to Glenn, redbone coonhounds only lived for about ten years. It seemed accurate that he had passed. The past few weeks, Sirius had been sluggish and hardly ate, so Daryl knew on some level that his time would soon come.

When Daryl broke the news to Maggie, she looked like she was on the verge of tears. Pregnancy hormones was what she blamed it on, but she really did love that dog.

Their neighbors gave their condolences to the group, a bit grossly sentimental, but still polite. In return, they gave their thanks and simply moved on.

***

**Author's Note:**

> I made Daryl/Carol be a subtext matter rather than a main theme. Woops (sorrynotsorry).
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed reading this, feel free to comment praise/criticism or leave a kudos!


End file.
